


Who's Spiderman?

by einahpetsyarcip



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Best Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gender-neutral Reader, Identity Reveal, Multi, Reader-Insert, also they're in college or smth idk, help me this killed me, reader is an art major, written with a female reader in mind but there aren't female pronouns used so go wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 20:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14985059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/einahpetsyarcip/pseuds/einahpetsyarcip
Summary: Peter Parker is your best friend. You would trust him with your life, but you had no idea he was hiding such a big secret until tonight.





	Who's Spiderman?

You sighed dramatically and flopped back onto the old couch, legs draped over those of your best friend. “Peter, I _hate_ art.”

The aforementioned boy stopped in his tracks, a nacho chip halfway to his mouth. “But…Y/N, you’re _majoring_ in art.”

“I knooow,” you groaned, throwing your head back. “But I have like fifty projects due and not enough time to do them.”

Peter grinned, finally crunching on the chip covered in cheese and jalapeño pieces. “I said you should’ve started earlier.”

“Psshh…just because you’re already done with all your finals for the semester doesn’t mean you can hold it over me,” you retaliated.

“Yes it totally does,” he replied, laughing.

You grumbled under your breath and pulled out your phone in an attempt to ignore him. Peter rolled his eyes and smiled, waiting for you to talk again while he continued munching on his nachos. Several minutes passed in relative silence, and eventually you found a meme you wanted to show him, so you were forced to suck it up and acknowledge his presence. You shoved your phone in his face and he jumped before reading the post and laughing (as expected).

He spoke when you pulled the device away. “So you finally decided I was right, huh? Done procrastinating now?”

“Ughhh, I don’t _want_ to though.”

“If nobody did things they didn’t want to do, then nothing would get done.” You stared at him in total confusion and he backtracked. “Okay, that made no sense. How about this?” He grabbed your hand and looked you in the eye. “If you start the project for drawing class then I’ll go get us something to eat.”

“Bribing me with food? You should be ashamed of yourself, Parker.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Peter grinned and moved your legs so he could slide off the couch, grabbing the spare key before leaving the apartment.

.:::.

Much later that night, you were sitting on the same couch looking at your phone before bed. A clatter and then a thud coming from the bedroom raised your concern, and you stood with the intention of finding out what the sudden noise was. On your way to the hallway, you had a moment of common sense and grabbed a pan from the kitchen to potentially defend yourself against an intruder. _Did I lock my windows?_ You wondered, not able to remember to save your life.

Your heart racing, you swung around the corner into the room. In your shock, you dropped the pan (thankfully, not on your feet) and it clattered to the ground.

There, lying face-up on your bedroom floor, was your best friend Peter Parker. However, he was entirely clad in a red and blue spandex-like suit from the neck down, and his face appeared to be bleeding. At the sound of the pan hitting the ground, he immediately sat upright and spun around to stare at you, a deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes.

“You’re – you’re _Spiderman_?!” you asked incredulously, feeling faint suddenly.

“I – I – uh…” Peter jumped to his feet before quickly hitting a spot in the center of his chest. The suit appeared to melt away, crumpling to the floor and leaving him in only a pair of boxers with stars patterned on them. “Why do you ask?” He tried in vain to kick the discarded costume aside and crossed his arms over his bare (and _very_ muscled, you might add) chest awkwardly. “Who’s Spiderman?” he laughed nervously. “I don’t know him.”

You couldn’t believe he was _actually_ attempting to deny what you had clearly seen with your own eyes just a few seconds ago. Also, blood was dripping off his face. You put your hands on your hips. “Peter, what the hell. I _know_ you’re a superhero. I _just_ saw you wearing the suit. Also, you seem to have crawled in through my window for some reason. And…you are bleeding.”

The reality of his injury seemed to catch up with him and he sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides. (You were momentarily distracted by the muscles again…how did you never notice how ripped your best friend was??) “Look, I’m sorry. But you can’t tell _anyone_ about this, Y/N. The only other people who know are May, Ned, and the Avengers.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re an Avenger too?!?” you practically yelled.

Peter rushed forward and pressed his hand over your mouth, the other arm reaching up to grasp your bicep. “ _Shhh_! Don’t say it so loud,” he whispered, glancing around.

You rolled your eyes and pushed his hand away so you could speak. “Oh, come on, there’s nobody else here. My roommate doesn’t come back until later anyway.” Now so close to him, you could more clearly see that he had a jagged cut on the side of his face and a black eye on the opposite side. Almost unconsciously, you ran a thumb over his non-bruised cheekbone, and he shivered. “Okay, who did this to you, Peter?”

His grip tightened and he sighed, closing his eyes. “Just some bad guys,” he mumbled. “Honestly, it’s nothing. I’ve had worse.”

“Hush. We gotta get you cleaned up before that cut gets infected, idiot.” A hesitant smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you turned away to go find the first aid materials.

After a few minutes, Peter padded into your kitchen, where you had pulled a couple of chairs near the small table and spread out the medical supplies. He had apparently discovered the ancient gray pair of sweatpants he left here a couple months ago, but he remained shirtless. “You, uh, seem to be taking this really well,” he commented, rubbing his arm nervously.

You felt your face flush. “Oh, trust me – I’m still in shock, but right now I’m focusing on helping you instead of thinking too hard about everything.” You opened the dark brown bottle of hydrogen peroxide and wet a clean cotton ball with the liquid. “All right…get over here.”

“Listen, Y/N, you don’t actually have to do this – it’ll heal on its own-”

“Not if it gets infected it won’t. Now come _here_.”

He seemed to realize that there was no point in arguing with you and gave in. Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, he sat across from you in the chair you placed near your own and leaned forward. You lightly dabbed peroxide over the cut, and he hissed. “Ow, that stings.”

“Sorry!” You quickly apologized. “I should have warned you.”

He smiled for a quick second before grimacing as you continued. “It’s okay, really. I knew it would hurt. I guess I’m just lucky he didn’t get any closer than he did with that kni-” He stopped mid-sentence, sensing your concern. “Um, never mind. You can keep going.”

As you carefully cleaned the wound, applied antibiotic ointment, and bandaged your best friend’s face, you noticed he was staring intently at you every time you happened to make eye contact. You could tell you were blushing while the minutes passed at an agonizing pace.

Once the wound was wrapped in a protective bandage, you stood to clear the supplies off the table. Peter suddenly leaned forward to hug you before you could step away, and once you got over your momentary shock, you hugged him back. “Thank you,” he murmured into your arm. After a millisecond of hesitation, you pressed a feather-light kiss to his ruffled hair.

His arm around you squeezed tighter, almost as if he was afraid to let go. Your face grew warmer as you felt his thumb brush your side. A few seconds more passed before you slowly tried to pull back, and he finally let go. Before you could move too far away, however, Peter grabbed one of your hands and brought it to his mouth, tenderly kissing your knuckles. You were stunned into silence, a certain dreamlike quality to his actions.

“Is this okay?” he whispered, clutching your hand in his like he was dying and you were the cure.

“Yeah,” you breathed in response.

Peter stood suddenly, and your brain picked that particular moment to helpfully remember the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt and nearly short-circuit. Your breath hitched when he gently cupped your cheek in his hand. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears, waiting for his next move.

“Is…is it bad if I _really_ want to kiss you right now?” he murmured, meeting your gaze.

You managed to shake your head slowly, mesmerized by his deep chocolate-colored eyes. He stepped closer and you shivered involuntarily, giving your silent consent by closing your eyes as he leaned in.

The pressure of Peter’s lips against yours was steady, almost asking permission. After half a second, you pushed back and returned the kiss. He released your hand and gently held your face, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks with the softest touch imaginable. Both of your hands were freed to find their way into his chestnut-colored curls and around his neck, holding on to him as if your life depended on it.

“I…love…you,” he spoke in between kisses. You smiled against his lips, and he pulled your body towards his with a surprisingly strong arm. Peter kissed you again, long and lingering. When you finally broke apart, Peter kissed your cheek before resting his forehead on yours.

“You have _no_ idea how much I wanted to do that,” he admitted, gentle laughter shaking his body.

Your mouth split open with a joyful grin. “You dork,” you replied breathlessly. “I love you too.” You closed your eyes again, exhaling shakily. When you opened them, Peter had an intense look of adoration in his eyes.

“Go out with me?” As soon as the words left his mouth, his brain seemed to catch up, and he pulled away quickly, trying to save himself. “Um, uh, I mean…will you-”

You laughed, cutting him off. “Yeah, Peter. I’ll go on a date with you. Even if you didn’t ask me the right way.”

He ran a hand through his mussed curls, sighing in relief. “Great, I was worried I messed it up for a second – wait, what do you mean ‘the right way’?”

You giggled at his confusion. “Come on, Parker. We gotta put these things away and get you out of here before my roommate gets back.”

At your bedroom window, Peter couldn’t resist giving you one last kiss before pulling the mask on and swinging away with a wink. You pressed your hands to your blushing face, reflecting on the eventful evening.

Falling backwards onto your bed, you smiled wide.

**Author's Note:**

> so in between writing Pokemon stories, I got super into Spiderman...so here y'all go. hope you enjoyed! <3


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